Midnight Wanderings
by Not-So-Sirius-Black
Summary: A brutal detention with Umbridge forces Harry to find some peace and quiet on the Astronomy Tower. He finds out that someone else had the same idea. Draco x Harry one-shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter; all rights go to J.K. Rowling! **

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The Christmas Holidays had just concluded and Harry had had a wonderful time at Grimmuald Place with the Weasleys, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, and Sirius. It was one of the best Christmas' he'd ever had. It was a pleasant getaway from the harsh reality of war that they had all become accustomed to. And so when Harry realized that the Holidays were over and that they all must return themselves to that reality, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He especially did not want to leave Sirius in such a dreadful house by himself. But seeing as it was the only way to make secure Sirius's safety, he didn't complain. Harry had said goodbye to the elder Weasleys and the rest of the Order with whom he had spent Christmas, and boarded the Hogwarts Express with his friends.

But that had been a month ago. Now it was nearing the end of January and Umbridge was worse than ever. Harry couldn't seem to go two days without her giving him detention. It was hard not to speak out against her when she said or did something awful or untruthful. He knew she was saying these things to antagonize him, but it didn't stop him from firing right back at her.

And so Harry would find himself in Umbridge's office every night of the week every week. Each day she would keep him longer and longer to write with the awful quill of hers. As of late, it seemed as though she had enhanced the quill with a few advanced and most likely dark spells. His hand now bled profusely every time he had to write that same sentence, instead of only dripping out a few drops. It also continued to bleed hours after he had finished writing. He knew it would forever be engraved into his skin, and into his mind. 'I must not tell lies.' 'I must not tell lies.'

It was almost twelve o'clock on a cool Saturday evening when Harry last walked out of Umbridge's office. His hand was bleeding more terribly than it ever had before. It had been his longest detention yet. However he didn't want to go back to the Gryffindor Common Room. He knew he should, for he knew that Hermione and Ron would be worried sick about him, but he needed some space. They would just antagonize him about going to the Hospital Wing, going to see Dumbledore, or to stop berating Umbridge. But they didn't understand. They never did.

Harry ripped off a piece of his raggedy red, black, and white plaid shirt and wrapped it around his still bleeding hand. After securing the cloth around his injured hand, Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak that he had kept inside of his shirt during detention. He threw it over himself and walked quietly but briskly through the castle. He didn't have a set destination, but he ended up walking the vast amount of stairs leading to the Astronomy Tower. As he reached the top, he felt the chilly breeze whip against his skin and sighed. He sat down in the on the hard stone floor and gazed up at the stars, trying to relax.

Harry had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn't seen the other figure standing in the shadows. The figure walked slowly to the opposite of where Harry was sitting and sat down, ruffling his platinum hair.

Jerking his head around, Harry turned to face Draco Malfoy. He was about to speak when he noticed the bruising on the right side of Malfoy's face marring his pale complexion. The bruises almost completely covered his cheek and part of his lip. He also seemed to have a black eye. Silver and Green eyes seemed to bore into each other eternity before Malfoy looked away. Harry turned his head upwards and watched the stars twinkle in the night sky. It was silent for a time. Only the sound of wind running in between the castle. Then Harry heard Malfoy speak.

"What happened to your hand?"

He barely heard it. It was a whispered phrase, carried over to him by the wind. Harry was stunned. He wasn't sure how to respond. This was the first time Malfoy had spoken to him civilly since the first day that he had met him five years previously.

"I had detention," Harry said looking over at Malfoy who he found was looking at him curiously, "with Umbridge." Harry didn't know why he told him, maybe it was the unusual softness in his voice, or maybe it was just because it was so late at night and he was a bit drained. He answered though; it was too late to take it back.

Again, so so soft that it took all of Harry's concentration to catch the words, Malfoy asked, "What could you possibly have done in detention that caused you to tie up a bloody hand?" The words sounded somewhat like the Malfoy he was used to hearing, but they were missing the most of the malice behind them.

"Uh, she has this quill," Harry said as quietly as Malfoy had before, "it uh... engraves the words that you write into your skin. I've done lines for a few weeks now." Harry looked over at Malfoy as Malfoy looked at him and a flash of something crossed his face. What was it? Was it pity? Concern? Anger? Harry wasn't sure. Malfoy turned his head slowly back toward the night sky and closed his eyes. Breaking the short silence, Harry asked, "What about you?"

Harry was sure that Malfoy knew what he was talking about. He had wondered what had happened to Malfoy's face from the moment he had seen the bruises adorning his skin. Someone had beaten him. He had probably earned it from another student that he had pushed a little too far. It wouldn't have been the first time, Harry thought remembering when Hermione had slapped him across the face in Third year, Though as he looked at Malfoy again who was still facing the sky, he wasn't sure who would have beaten him up this much. Especially if Malfoy had his cronies with him. The question hung in the air for what seemed like hours to Harry. Harry was just to say something else when Malfoy answered.

"It was my father," he paused for a moment and then continued, "He wanted to see me and requested that I come home with permission from Dumbledore. I have...displeased him with my marks. I'm second in our year to Granger."

Harry knew that Lucius Malfoy would have been angry that his son did not receive better marks than a Muggleborn, but he didn't think he would abuse him for it. He could relate to it easily. Ever since Harry had turned thirteen, Uncle Vernon had decided that Harry was old enough to handle physical punishment. Though it didn't happen often or very much mainly because Harry was quick enough to dodge the fists, it still frightened him when it occurred.

"Ya know Potter," Malfoy said a little louder than before, making Harry turn to look at him once more. "It's not pleasant on either side of this, is it?"

The War.

"No Malfoy," Harry said as loud, "it's not."

Malfoy nodded his head and resumed his earlier position, as did Harry. They both sat in silence for a few more hours. Not talking, just sitting in each others company, lost in their own thoughts. They each thought about their part in this War that would either make or break Wizarding Society. Things could have and should have been different for each of them, but they could only move forward and hope that it would all be over soon.

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**A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Did you like it? :) I hope so! Make sure you leave a review! They're always appreciated:) Have a great day lovelies.**


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